


What I want

by InsaneJul



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Attraction, Drunken Shenanigans, M/M, Party, drunk!Yuuri
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-10
Updated: 2017-01-10
Packaged: 2018-09-16 18:27:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,026
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9284378
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/InsaneJul/pseuds/InsaneJul
Summary: I have never wanted anyone the way I want him, right now.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Welcome to "I'm ace but I'm gonna try and write about being attracted to a person...yay" anyway that party scene amirite? I couldn't stop thinking about him and victor dancing and victor saying that Yuuri's body was making music. Idk I'm trash. Just have this.

            I have never wanted anyone the way I want him, right now.

            He is so full of _life_ , like no one I have ever met. His brown eyes simply glow, everything about him is bright and alive. I can’t remember the last time I felt alive like he appears, the last time I have seen someone so alive.

            And the way he _holds himself—_ I’m shocked that no one else in the room seems to feel what I am feeling. He is holding himself like he is the most beautiful person in the room (and, oh god, he is) and he _knows_ it—like he can sense the way my heart is pounding and I’m desperately trying to ignore him. Like he knows he can have whatever he wants.

            _Fuck—_ why is anyone allowing him to take his clothes off? Oh, probably because we don’t want to be hypocrites and Chris is always doing it. Of everyone I can remember seeing, no one _looks_ like him—a skater’s body, a dancer’s poise, a coach’s confidence and a stripper’s sensuality, all combined into one _unbelievable_ human being.

            The way he moves while he dances with Yuri, like he is _part_ of the music, like he is _creating_ the music as he goes. It’s so awfully beautiful, like no one I have _ever seen._ I wonder why he fell today. I wonder what brought him down. I want to destroy that thing, so he never breaks again. I want him to be able to _be this_ —this perfect form of a human being—as often as he wants, whenever he wants. I want to watch him dance more, watch him make more music. I want to hear the music he can make in noises as I press against him, I want to watch the melodies he traces on me, I want to make his body _sing_ for me. I want to wake up in the morning and survey the notes he left on my skin.

            It occurs to me that maybe I shouldn’t be staring so much, since Chris, barely clothed, came to stand beside me as Yuri battles Yuri and winked. “He’s handsome, isn’t he?” I shrugged and stuttered some kind of a response and went off for another drink. He is _more_ than handsome—he is the single most beautiful person I have ever encountered and I have to make an actual effort not to go straight up to him and kiss him right now.

            I don’t have to do anything, actually—he goes right up to me, most of his clothes back on, and invites me to dance. There’s no hesitation when I agree. He and I dance together and even though he’s probably stone drunk he’s still in time, so graceful, I want to fight to keep up with him. I barely want to keep going, I just want to observe this man, but he takes my hands and leads me and it takes my breath away. It’s such a simple touch but it feels like electricity. It feels as sobering and affecting as the cold ice on your body when you fall. His body lines up so perfectly with mine as he holds me, and I have never been so upset that someone let go of me. He was warm, _hot_ with the alcohol and exertion, and I can only imagine what it would feel like to _bring him here—_ to not watch him come to this point but drag him here with only the power in my fingertips. Would I ever be powerful enough to make him feel half of what I’m feeling now? He purrs my name as he pulls away from me and a jolt goes through my abdomen, I almost fall over or choke. He shouldn’t be _allowed_ to be this alluring—then I turn to face him and he dips me, one hand cradling my face and laughing, he shouldn’t be _allowed_ to be this sweet. I can’t help but laugh too, having barely felt this kind of euphoria while dancing in _years._ His joy reaches something deep down inside me and I want him.

            I have never wanted anyone the way I want him, right now.

            He holds onto me, cheeks flushed and eyes shining, and asks me to coach him (like I even know how!). His eyes are so soft and brown and bright, and something about the way he holds me and looks at me conveys both that sensuality and sweetness that draws me to him. I don’t even need to think—I want to say yes. I want to give him anything, _everything._ He is so brand-new, so beautiful and incredible and he has not failed to surprise me once this evening, and I _need that. I need him._

I never want him to let go of me, but he does, of course, when I stand there too awestruck to speak and his attention is drawn away. To think _he_ looks up to _me—_ an absolute shock.

            When his coach finally takes him away from the party, people have been filtering out for a while. Only the skaters really remain, and Yuri grumbles as I watch him go. I want to follow—I want to go to him and tell him _yes, I will, I will coach you, just tell me what you want._ I want to fall into bed beside him and just _explore_ him, learn every single inch and drift off while listening to the music he makes. But of course I can’t do any of that. I instead lead Yuri back to his hotel room and wander down the hall on my own, listening as hard as I can for that beautiful man’s voice. I don’t hear him, and eventually I give up and go back to my own room. Chris has already sent me all the pictures of me dancing with Japanese Yuri, so I collapse into bed and stare at them, memorize every muscle of his I can see. Try desperately to remember exactly how he felt alongside me.

            I will not allow that to just be a memory.

 


End file.
